Page 18 of Because of Me

His head is in the fridge when I enter the kitchen. Hinged at the waist, his deep grey chinos fit snug against ass. And fuck, I’ve always been an ass girl and Noah’s is delectable. My tongue darts over my lip as I appreciate the man in front of me. Noah wiggles his butt, ever so slightly, just enough to let me know he is aware I’m watching. I swallow audibly.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Noah jests as he retreats from the fridge with two cans of seltzer.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I hold back the whimper that threatens to escape. Noah can read it all over my face though. He smirks as he hands me a drink.

“You didn’t come in here just to get an eyeful, did you?”

My chest begins to throb, and not in a good way. I need Noah’s help, but what I want to ask him is too much. I knew it before, but being in front of him now, needing to ask him, I’m all too aware I’m about to stretch his generosity far too thin. I have to try though. The alternative—my father’s wrath—is far worse.

“I need you to move in with me.” There. Like a Band-Aid.

His eyes widen with shock and he pushes up. He steps towards me, then with a slight shake of his head he moves back into his relaxed position against the fridge. His can fizzes as he flicks open the ring top. Eyes never leaving mine, he takes a drink.

“Please?” I add. I am not beyond begging if it means keeping my father off my back for a little longer. Hell, I’d even consider getting on my knees, only the brief thought sends a wave coursing through my veins. It pools low in my belly.

“I’m not completely against the idea.” Noah smirks and he looks so damn smug as he shrugs his shoulders. “But why exactly do you need me to move in with you? If it’s money I’m sure Callum will drop the rent more.”

Why is it so hard to just be honest? Why am I so embarrassed? It’s not my fault my parents are stuck on expired traditions and care more about my potential as a grandchild-maker than as a human being.

“It’s not money. Fuck, as lame as it sounds I’d even pay you.”

“Are you afraid of the dark, Cupcake?”

I close my eyes, take a long sip of my drink and focus on the cool liquid as though it might drench the fire inside me. Lust and anticipation and dread and anger swirl together into a burning hot mess no amount of liquid courage will help dissipate.

“My cousin is coming to stay.”

Noah’s brow furrows. “Okay? And? I’m obviously wrong here, but I would have thought that would make you less inclined to have an extra house guest. What am I missing?”

“I told my mother you were moving in when Cassidy moved out. I was trying to get her off my back about living alone and thought it would stop her from offering up my house as a permanent bed and breakfast for visiting family members. Apparently, I was wrong, and she’s still offered the room to my cousin.”

My heart races faster than I can spill out the words. Fidgeting, I pull the ring tab off my drink and flick it between my fingers. I hold my breath, trying to slow my pulse and regain my thoughts. Noah’s going to say no, and I don’t blame him. He stands with one hand shoved in the pocket of his pants, holding his cool drink against his forehead with the other.

“And if I’m not there, they’ll realise you were lying all along?”

I nod meekly. The air I was holding in releases as Noah steps into my space. Without ever touching me, he backs me against the counter and towers over me. His breath is on my neck when he reaches behind me to put his can down.

“Cupcake,” he drawls, directly into my ear. His guttural tone reverberates through my bones until I’m tingling all over.

I want to reach between us and grab his too-tight henley and pull him into me. I want to know what his breath feels like against other parts of me. But I can’t. Because I need more from him. And one fleeting moment of release would make that near impossible.

So, I hold my ground and do my best to glare up at him. I do my best to ignore the way his eyes dart down to my heaving chest. And I wait.

First rule of negotiation, whoever speaks first loses.

Noah doesn’t budge. His breath is rattly against my skin and a groan rumbles from deep inside him. It stirs something from deep insideme, but I shove it down, locking it in a metaphorical cage.

“We’d need rules,” he says finally. It sounds as though the words are digging their way from his throat.

I whimper a little as guilt crawls along my spine like nails on a chalkboard. “You don’t have to,” I whisper. “I’ll sort it out.”

As much as I need him for my own selfish reasons, I can’t force the man to come and live with me just to please my family. It was a stretch, at best, and now I can physically see the irritation in his body, I know I can’t expect him to follow through. My now empty can hangs between my fingers, but I raise my hands to push him away.

Noah’s chest is just as firm as I imagined it would be, and he recoils from my touch. There’s an audible crack of static electricity as my finger brushes against his bare chest where the top of his shirt has fallen open. He doesn’t move though. His hands still cage me against the counter and his head still falls over my shoulder.

“No,” he grunts.

“Noah,” I plead as I try to push him away again.

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